The Pain of Understanding
by Syntheticka
Summary: An original Galerians story written from Rion's POV. What happens when Rion doubts his existence as a Galerian? What ends up being more painful, being able to understand the truth, or being left in the dark?
1. Part I : The Hunger for The Truth

Rion Steiner lay in bed next to Jezebelle as she slept. He couldn't sleep again, too much was running through his head. Was what Cain was saying... was it true? Was he really just an artificial person? He just tried to close his eyes and tried to drift off... but the words continued to echo through his head. When it wasn't the words, it was his own thoughts.  
  
He couldn't be fake, could he? What would the feelings he felt be called? Did he not have feelings for Jezebelle? Lilia? Anyone? Was this all some sort of sick, twisted joke?  
  
Rion pulled Jezebelle's sleeping form closer to his own body, feeling her warmth against his own chilled body. He had to be human. How could it be possible for him to have these memories of his own family, then? So, what if he had to take pills to stabilize his system. So, what if he could inject himself with certain poisons/drugs that could give him psionic powers. He -was- human. Wasn't he?  
  
He quietly reached over to the table by the bed and grabbed a delmetor capsule. Popping it into his mouth, he sighed, knowing the inevitable. He would be forever damned to take these pills to prevent his own brain from shorting out in his head. He would be forever dependent. That, or be put six feet under.  
  
Rion buried his face into Jezebelle's vanilla-scented hair as the delmetor surged throughout his veins. The anger in his blood suddenly quelled, and his entire body slumped with the effect of the drug. It was always going to be like this, wasn't it? Jezebelle shifted in his arms.  
  
"Rion...?" she mumbled sleepily, green orbs peeking out of a freshly awakened daze. "...are you all right? I felt you slump... is there something wrong?"  
  
He tangled his fingers in her pale lavender hair, shaking his head with a mournful sigh. "I just took some delmetor. I was just thinking... I can't stop thinking about what Cain told me--"  
  
"Rion," she whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "Don't believe what he says, dear. You know Dorothy sent him to screw you over, and the more you think about it, the more that they all win. Just go back to bed, love."  
  
He turned his head away from her, not able to meet her gaze. "Belle-chan, what if... what if I really am the Galerian that Cain said I am? Why does he look so much like me? Why do I have the same powers as him... the same powers as all of them? Rita, Rainheart, Birdman, Cain?"  
  
"Remember, your parents uploaded the virus in Rion's head. Your head. Not some Galerian," Jezebelle whispered, resting her head against his chest. "Maybe your parents gave you those powers to protect that virus..."  
  
"Then why was I at Michelangelo Hospital? Why, then, in the file, did it say that some drugs didn't need to be administered to me?" Rion asked, feeling his heart palpitating in his chest. Despite the fact that he had just taken a delmetor only moments before, he could feel his anger rising. "I saw the documents, Belle-chan. Doctor Lem gave me the only dosage of drugs that would kill any normal human. It wouldn't kill a Galerian, though. And look, why, then, am I still alive? Does that make any sense to you?"  
  
A tear slid down Jezebelle's face as she listened to her beloved's empty monologue. "If you're not Rion, not human, who are you, then? You breathe, you eat, you have feelings. You feel fear, you feel love. You feel pain, you feel anger. You remember your parents before they died. How can you begin to say you're anything like Dorothy's artificially spawned children? How can you say you're not the Rion I've grown to love? How can you say that?!"  
  
Rion's arms tightened around Jezebelle's now-shaking form. He wanted to agree, to believe Belle. That this nightmare was just a lie of Cain's. That this was not happening. But... "Belle," he began, still holding her tight, "...I don't know. Who am I? These memories of mine..." he hesitated, thinking about Cain's words echoing through his mind.  
  
"You think you're human?" Rion heard Cain's whisper over and over in his mind. "Hah, don't make me laugh, Rion. Oh, do you think you're really Rion Steiner?" Cain's laugh echoed throughout Rion's mind. "How does it feel to know you're just like us? Me, Rita, Rainheart, Birdman. You need delmetor to survive, just like us Galerians. You can't survive with humans, none of us can."  
  
Rion remembered Cain's pause, how Cain's malicious gaze devoured Jezebelle, how she cowered in his gaze, how Cain's grin showed his utter insanity. "What, Rion?" Cain said with a laugh, overemphasizing Rion's name. "You think you can interact with humans? Think, Rion. What happened to you when you shorted, eh? Humans don't short." Another laugh. "How many humans did you kill in Michelangelo Hospital? When you shorted, when the humans spontaneously combust? Is that HUMAN?!"  
  
Rion remembered Cain pacing around him. "But... my memories... my parents... my name... all this..." Rion sputtered in a vain defense, not wanting to believe...  
  
Insane laughter was his response. "You think... you think those memories... those memories... you think those memories belong to you? You think they're YOURS?!" Cain's speech was constantly interrupted by laughter. That scalding, caustic laughter. "Dorothy created you, Rion, get over it. The real Rion is dead. All you are, Rion, is a Galerian structured to look like Rion. So, what if that virus was uploaded into your brain? All the rest of your memories are uploaded, just like that virus. Isn't that amusing?"  
  
Rion remembered falling to his knees, not wanting to believe... "No. No... that's not possible... I'm Rion Steiner. I'm not some... some... creature...."  
  
That smirk that Cain wore would stick in his mind forever. "Scared yet? That isn't even the beginning. How does it feel to know that all your memories in your head aren't even yours? That you are just a pawn for Mother, for Mother Dorothy. She put all those memories into your head. who cares if that virus activation program is in your head. When Lilia is dead, it all won't matter anyway."  
  
"Lilia..." Rion whimpered. Lilia. They wanted to kill his childhood friend.  
  
Snapping back to reality, Rion felt hot tears streaming down his face. "What kind of person... monster... am I? Does it matter if I have feelings or not? Are those even relevant anymore? Before I killed Birdman, he felt pain. Before I killed Rainheart, he felt fear. Before Rita died by my hand, she felt love for me. She cared about me. Cain felt anger towards me, he still does. All of them are Galerians. What makes me any different? What if Cain happens to be right? These memories seem to be mine, yet they could have just as easily been implanted in my head as easily as a virus could've been."  
  
Jezebelle didn't see the tears in Rion's eyes. "I need sleep, love. I can't think about this," she sniffled softly, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. "Thinking about this now is giving me a migraine."  
  
He let her go, letting himself tuck her into their bed. Before he knew it, she was passed out cold, snuggled quite contentedly in the blankets. She must have been so stressed over their discussion. He wiped his eyes and got out of bed. Belle didn't stir.  
  
He knew then that he had to find out the truth, one way or another. 


	2. Part II : Return to the Mushroom Tower

Rion found himself standing in front of the Mushroom Tower, breathing hard. Instinct forced him to put a delmetor in his mouth. There was no way in hell he would short out before he got to speak to Cain one more time. He needed this. He needed an answer. Even if getting an answer would mean him or someone else dying in the process.  
  
Before he entered the tower, Rion pulled out his Beeject gun. He hadn't had to use it since his last encounter with Cain, which felt like it was years ago... even if it was only a month or so past. Inserting a Nalcon vial into the Beeject, he pressed the barrel of the gun-like object to his throat. "One... two..." Instead of saying three, he pulled the trigger, feeling an abrupt sensation of unbearable pain before that sense of calm washed over him. He could feel his psionic power to call that electric force brimming, ready to use. He smiled.  
  
The smile on his face faded all too quickly. If Belle knew what he was doing, she would kill him with her own hands. That being, he survived this encounter with Cain, and whatever else would be behind those doors before him. Catch-22. Damn.  
  
Never mind that, he had a mission to accomplish, yes?  
  
Taking a deep breath, Rion pushed open the doors to the Mushroom Tower. He was truly afraid. Last time, Belle and Lilia were here to accompany him. This time, he was alone. Maybe it was better this way, he wanted to find the truth for himself. It didn't matter, though, the fear still coursed through his veins. It was easy enough to search for the answer, but it was most difficult of all to accept it or to even discern it between truth and fiction.  
  
He entered the lobby of the tower. Two guards were patrolling a large box in the center of the room. He could see the box was made of a clear substance and there was something within. Yet... he couldn't see what was held inside that clear prison. He stepped closer, trying to get a better look.  
  
The guards noticed Rion as soon as he stepped away from the doors and closer to their post. "Oh my God, it's really him!" the first one yelled. "That's the one Cain said to look for!"  
  
"Get him!" the other one responded.  
  
Both guards pulled out nightsticks and ran at Rion. Shaking his head, Rion held his hand out, palm facing the guards. He began to focus all that brewing energy charging through his veins into the palm of his hand.  
  
The second guard reached him first. The man was about to club him upside the head with the nightstick, but Rion just smiled and let the energy from the charge go. The charged Nalcon sent the guard flying backwards into his companion. The familiar, sickening snap told Rion that someone's neck was broken. One down, one to go.  
  
The first guard pushed the dead body off of himself and stared, at his now-dead companion and the simple looking boy in front of him. "What the hell did you just do?"  
  
Rion sighed in both frustration and bitter acceptance. He knew this would happen. Cain would set unknowing, innocent people to capture him. He'd kill one and scare the rest shitless. Then, in order to complete his mission alive, he would have to continually kill more and more innocents. Cain was making him a murderer.  
  
Rion felt the stirring of Red in his system. Although it had been a month or more since Rion's last visit to this tower, the psionic injection of fire hadn't left his bloodstream. Might as well, Rion thought as the first guard pulled out a gun. Rion approached him slowly, looking down at the man on the floor.  
  
"Get the hell away from me, you goddamn freak," the guard growled, gun pointed at Rion. His hands were shaking. The man was truly afraid of him.  
  
Rion stopped three feet away from the cowering, terrified man. He held out his hand, palm facing outward. He felt the powers within him shift from the electric charge of Nalcon to the burning fires of Red. He began to succumb to the power, letting the charge focus in his palm.  
  
"What... what are you--" the guard started, but was immediately cut off. Rion released the blast from his hand. Tendrils of flame slowly materialized from his hand, shooting out towards the guard. The flames embraced the man like a lover, and he began to scream. Rion pushed the flames out faster, hoping for a quick death for this man. The tendrils of flame burst outwards to a behemoth size, consuming the screaming man completely. Eventually, the scream died and the lifeless body collapsed into a pile of ash and burnt flesh. The odor was overpowering and washed over Rion like a flood as the hand that was used to kill dropped to his side, lifelessly.  
  
Rion coughed and covered his nose as he glanced at his morbid handiwork. The second guard was sprawled a foot away from the first guard, his neck twisted at an absurd angle. The first guard was a large hunk of charred flesh and ash, parts of the body still burning. The rest of his body looked like dull embers, blood red lights to remind him of the carnage he had created.  
  
Rion could feel that he had just about three-quarters of Nalcon still drifting in his system, but the Red was dwindling. He pulled out his trusty Beeject, holding it in both of his hands. Wandering over to the wall nearest to the door, he sat down and stared at the bizarre gun-type object resting in his palms.  
  
"This is fucking absurd," he thought out loud, digging through his pocket for one of his last few Red vials. Pulling one out of his pocket, he sighed again. "I'm a murderer, and these vials only add to my body count and my death warrant." 


	3. Part III : Secret Behind the Coffin

Rion pushed the vial of Red into the Beeject gun and pressed the cold barrel to his throat. Without a second thought, he pulled the trigger. The shock of it hit him with a full-blown force, and he could feel the contained flames burning within his head. His muscles tensed as the pain washed through his entire system, but gradually, it faded to a dull throb. Just like the Nalcon's electrical pulse was always in the back of his mind, the Red put an ever-burning flame there, as well.  
  
Never mind that. There still was that... large container in the center of the room that he happened to carelessly disregard because of the guards. Curiosity detained him from his set goal... he had to see what was being held in that glass prison.  
  
Putting the Beeject safely away, he approached this glass box hesitantly. He was careful enough to avoid the corpses of the deceased guards. No use in further desecrating innocent bodies. He just wanted a closer look...  
  
Rion's eyes widened as he stared at the contents of the glass sarcophagus. "Jesus fucking Christ."  
  
The glass coffin held the body of the woman who once professed her undying love for him. The woman he killed without a second thought.  
  
The woman in the coffin was Rita.  
  
He stared. He couldn't help but stare. The last time he had seen her was so, so long ago. A month, maybe more? She looked so... different. The look of anguish on her face when she begged Rion to take her life was gone. She looked so peaceful, so serene. She was dressed in all vinyl, boots, corset, skirt. She was wearing fishnet stockings. Her makeup delicately accented her serene features, unlike the tear-streaked mascara he remembered. Her short brown hair was smoothed down. She looked like a doll, a fallen angel.  
  
Nothing like he remembered.  
  
His hand fell upon the glass surface of her casket. Should he ask why she was here? Was Cain taunting him? Did Cain know that Rion was already here, that he would be here at this exact time? He took a step back and extended his arm so that his palm was facing her coffin. Closing his eyes, he used his psionic powers to discover the truth about why Rita was here. Even if it wasn't the whole truth, he just wanted so badly to know why.  
  
He focused his power into his hand. Slowly, a still-picture formed in his mind. He saw a room filled with liquid-filled canisters. Immediately, he banished the image from his mind. He opened his eyes and stared at the coffin Rita was in.  
  
The ones in the image looked exactly like the one she was delicately entrapped in, except Rita's coffin was not filled with that clear fluid.  
  
What the fuck was going on?  
  
Rion pulled both himself and his gaze away from Rita's prone body and approached the information desk that the guards were patrolling. There had to be something useful here, hadn't there? Information... supplies... anything.  
  
He saw a drawer labeled "Emergency PPEC's". This must be where they hid some delmetor, recovery capsules, Nalcon, Red, D-Felon, all sorts of psionic goodies. He pulled on the latch.  
  
"Dammit," he muttered. "Locked."  
  
Despite the fact he was starting to develop a major headache from the use of his rusty psionic powers, he pushed himself to scan the drawer with his mind. The image of the guard's neck he snapped slowly materialized in his head. In the image, he was holding a set of keys. Bingo.  
  
He ran over to the body of the non-toasted guard. Searching him, he found the key labeled "PPEC". Taking the set of keys, he went and unlocked the drawer.  
  
Two vials of Nalcon, two vials of Red, a vial of D-Felon, a delmetor capsol, and two recovery capsules.  
  
Jackpot. He took everything in the PPEC drawer and shoved them in one of the pockets of his cargos. Relief flooded over him, especially since all he had left that he brought from home was a single delmetor. And of all times, now is one he could NOT afford to short out.  
  
Rion stood up slowly. "Thank Go--" he began, but was cut off by the security camera on the desk before him zapping off. He leaned in closer to the screen, wondering what could have possibly caused that. Suddenly, the screen started to turn on again, and the focus was starting to clear. Rion shook his head and turned towards the lobby elevator... but a harsh voice drew him out of his daze.  
  
"So, I see you found my little gift."  
  
That voice. THAT VOICE. Rion spun around, looking for the origin of that voice. He saw nobody. Maybe he was just starting to hear things...  
  
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Ack! Who might it be? Well, you'll have to wait until the next chapter, because I'm about to go to bed. Tee hee. Sorry if this chapter is... boring. It'll get better, I promise. 


	4. Part IV : Cain's Call to Violence

A malicious laugh proved that he wasn't hearing things. "What's wrong, Rion? Getting a little... paranoid?"  
  
Rion's eyes drifted down to the security camera screen. There before him, was the image of Cain. "You..."  
  
Another laugh cut Rion's statement short. "I'm rather shocked. You decided to actually come back. What, did you miss me, li'l bro?"  
  
Rion scowled. "I am NOT your brother," he muttered.  
  
"Oh, poor little Rion, still as confused as always. You still don't get it, do you?" He snickered, shaking his head. "Still as naive as always..."  
  
"I know you're just fucking with my head, Cain. You can't win, there," Rion responded, glaring at the image of Cain before him.  
  
Cain looked as if he had leaned back in his seat, smirking like a cat who had just eaten the canary. "You are so pathetic, Rion. Okay, so maybe... just MAYBE you might be human. Tell me, then. Where are your parents now, Rion?"  
  
Rion hesitated. "I... don't know," he muttered, glancing down. His memories had always been drenched in a heavy fog. It was a fog so think that he could've bet his life that if it was a tangible fog, he wouldn't be able to see more than a few inches ahead of him. "I'm not really sure, okay?"  
  
Cain smirked again, satisfied with Rion's pathetic semblance of a response. "Do you even know where you lived, my ingenious Rion?"  
  
An image of a house flashed in his mind. Sad. That's the way the majority of his memories were, just images. If even that much. "Yeah. I lived in a house..." Another image flashed in his mind of a street name. "Oak Street. It's... not too far out of the city."  
  
"Good," Cain answered with another of those bothersome laughs. "I'll be waiting for you there with the answers you seek."  
  
Just as Rion was about to say yet another thing, the image of Cain disappeared from the screen. As the focus returned on the monitor, all that could be seen was the normal security camera view.  
  
"Dammit!" Rion swore as he hit his fist down on the counter in front of the security monitor. He felt his anger surge, and his headache began to grow more and more agonizing.  
  
"Look, there he is!" a voice yelled from behind him.  
  
Rion turned around slowly, his breath beginning to heave in his chest. Behind him were eight security guards, fully armed. Rion felt his stress level rising. Why did they choose to show up now, of all times? Was this another of Cain's little presents?  
  
Before he realized it, all the guards began to rush him. "remember, Cain wants him alive!"  
  
Rion held out his hand, palm facing outward, following that same old routine. His mind still was focused on using Red, so he began to build up the flames in his mind.  
  
As Rion began to push the flames from his mind out through his hand, a sudden pain enveloped his entire body. "Fucking shit," he realized all too late, "I forgot to use a delmetor." An electrical burst exploded through his psionic channels. He screamed in pain as he clutched his head. The pain was so excruciating. He felt it, like a knife, cutting through his muscles, his nerves, his veins. All over, a shocking, stabbing, slashing, indescribable pain.  
  
The guards continued to rush him, but a different result happened. The guards closest to Rion let out screams as their bodies exploded into a bloody mess. A shower of organs, blood, and flesh washed over Rion as the rest of the guards who made that fatal approach were torn apart all the same. Rion fumbled in pain for a delmetor. He found one and pushed it in his mouth, and despite the unbearable pain, he swallowed.  
  
Suddenly, he collapsed on the ground, conscious and breathing hard, feeling the blood that initially hit him soak through his clothes. Not to mention the massive pool of blood he fell into, as well. "Damn," he said to himself as he rubbed his head, only smearing more of the vermilion liquid onto himself. "I didn't realize I would short so soon." He wiped his face and looked at his hands, noticing the sheer amount of blood. "Jesus Fuck... nasty." It was only then did he realize just how much carnage he had caused... and how much of it he was laying in.  
  
Looking around the room, he observed. All eight guards had spontaniously combusted and left behind random body parts along with the blood everywhere. All this because he had taken a delmetor too late. The pain in his body was gradually fading, but his muscles ached everywhere.  
  
Only then did he bother to look around his direct vicinity. With a panicked gasp, he backed up, only managing to slide back on the floor. He was laying on some sort of... matter... that looked as if it was previously someone's intestines. The knot in his stomach grew tighter as he realized that the fluids on the ground were not only blood. A wave of nausea started to capture him as he realized that it was probably not only blood he was laying in. Excrements from eviscerated organs were everywhere. Bones and blood were equally as scattered. Not to mention skin... a flood of bile tried to make it's way out of Rion's mouth, but he held it down as he tried to get up...  
  
...and slipped, falling back into the blood on the floor. He groaned as he realized he had slipped on someone's eyeball...  
  
He moved backwards into a less... bloody section of the room and picked himself up off the floor. His clothes were completely soaked in blood. "Jesus God," he groaned, staring at his blood-drenched clothes. "Why the fuck does this always happen to me?"  
  
And then he inhaled. The stench of death finally caught up to him, and that was a bit too much for his body to handle. The waves of nausea was sending bile up his throat, and there wasn't really anything he could do... the odor was just too bad. He made his way over to a corner, and, as discreetly as he believed he could manage, retched his guts up. The way the blood felt on his skin, on his clothes, the way the bodies smelled after a fresh death... sometimes this was just too much to handle.  
  
He just had to get out of here. He had to. He needed to find his old home, to find the answers from Cain. He just had to. Needed to. But, before he could do anything else, he needed a shower. To change his clothes. Then he would have to explain to Jezebelle just why he was soaked in blood.  
  
"Won't that be fun," Rion muttered as he turned to leave the tower. He wished he would never have to come back here, he wished he would never have to kill again. But, as always, he already knew the answer to that... and he knew he had no choice.  
  
Nothing would end until the answers were out.  
  
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I hope you like what I've got so far... It's all a little sketchy, since I tend to write chapters to this when I'm really, really tired. But, for who asked, Jezebelle is just a character I created myself just to be... filler for my plot story. And as for the R rating? It's... there. But, I'll keep posting more chapters as long as lets me. Tee hee. 


	5. Part V : Jezebelle and Rion

Digging through his pockets, Rion fished for his house keys. Just as he was about to unlock the door to his apartment, Jezebelle opened the door.  
  
"Rion, where the hell have you--" she began, but was cut off by the sight of her love covered in blood, which was on the verge of drying. His blond hair was matted down with the vermilion liquid. His eyes were half-glazed, she could immediately tell that he was recovering from the aftereffects of shorting. "What happened?" she asked, almost speechless from surprise.  
  
"Cain... he's..." Rion began, but stopped. He blinked a few times, trying to focus.  
  
"You... didn't," she said, staring at the love of her life, who was not all there. "What did I tell you about him?"  
  
He completely ignored her question. "I need a shower," he muttered, still staring blankly at her.  
  
"Rion, listen, I told you to stay away from him,"  
  
"No, you listen," he retorted, moving Jezebelle to the side. He stepped in the apartment and turned back to look at her. "I need to go take a shower, and then I am going to find the truth from Cain."  
  
"How are you going to find the truth? Just walk up and ask him for it?" she glared at him as he passed her by. "You know he's most likely just going to tell you more bullshit."  
  
"He's at my old home, Belle, somewhere I haven't been since..." a picture flashed in his mind, "...many years ago. Since I was hunted down. He hides the truth in my house. I have to know. I don't think you understand that. Even if he's not telling the complete truth, he knows more than he's letting off."  
  
"You don't know if he's telling the truth or just baiting you on," she retorted, anger flashing in her eyes. "You know, he could just as well kill you before you realize he's fooling you."  
  
"We'll talk about this later. I need a shower," he said nonchalantly, making his way towards the bathroom, leaving his shoes at the door. How else would he know the truth if he didn't try to find it out?  
  
The bathroom was dark because it was late at night, not to mention the evening blue color scheme that he and Belle picked out for it. Rion turned on the light, which was a medium, relaxing azure. He stripped off his leather choker and ran it underneath the sink. Not too much blood ran off. He stripped off his shirt and cargos, along with the rest of his clothes.  
  
He went over to the bathtub, took soap, and cleaned his clothing to the best he could. Which wasn't the best at all, it looked as if he had ruined yet another pair of clothes due to this useless, useless violence. He didn't like it, he had to go through so many pairs of clothing due to psionic mishaps such as shorting, or when he had to use violence as a self-defense method. It wasn't fair, he would always be damned to an impossibly bloody life, wouldn't he? After he wrung out his clothes and left them to dry on the towel rack, he began to run a shower.  
  
As he stepped in the shower, he watched as rivulets of blood ran down from his hair and slipped towards the drain. He washed his hair, he gazed at all the red water at his feet. "Sad... all this blood... it's not mine."  
  
It hurt him to realize that he, Rion Steiner, killed eight people so brutally. Two more he killed by his own free will. "I'm a murderer," he groaned softly.  
  
Rion finished his shower as quickly as he could. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he dried his hair and stepped into the hallway where Jezebelle was waiting. "Can I clean up the bathroom, dear?" she asked without meeting his eyes.  
  
"Yeah," he responded, passing by her in that daze and headed towards the bedroom. He pulled out his current favorite pair of black cargo pants, black boxers, white socks, a fishnet shirt, and his black Doc Martens. He got dressed and laid down on his and Belle's bed.  
  
He grabbed the plastic bag that held all the items he obtained from the Mushroom Tower. He took one of the two recovery capsules from within and pushed it into his mouth. His pain-laden senses felt as if they were repairing themselves. Hell, his entire body felt as if he were recovering from the short a lot faster than normal. He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of... well, feeling better.  
  
A warm body curled up against his relaxing form. "Why do you do it, Rion? Why do you let him lead you on like he's doing now?" she asked, her head resting against his chest, arms wrapped around his torso.  
  
"I... I'm not sure," he answered, his fingers tangling themselves in Belle's hair. "I just hate not knowing why I'm here, who I am. I hate not being sure if I'm who I think I am... or if I'm almost pretending to be another person."  
  
"But.. you know who you are," she responded. "You're Rion Steiner."  
  
"I just want to be a hundred percent sure, Belle," he said softly. "I want to understand why my body behaves the way it does. Even if I am a Galerian or not... I just want the truth. Is that so hard? Is that too much to ask for?"  
  
She sighed. "How can you be so sure on what the truth is? Cain could lie just as easily as he could tell the truth. I've told you that a million times."  
  
"I have to take that risk," he responded. "If I don't take this risk, I'll always be trapped in the same boat. I'll always be trapped in darkness. Even if what Cain tells me isn't true, at least I'll be able to say I tried. I won't be able to find the truth unless I take one risk. At least one risk."  
  
"Rion," she whispered, eyes glancing up to gaze at her beloved. "All right. What if you take this risk, and this risk ends up killing you? Then, what? All this effort for nothing! Rion, you know Cain could care less if you were dead. Mother Dorothy, the computer that created her Galerian children, wants you dead because you contain the virus that could kill her. What use are you to her alive? All they want is your dead body. Why would they have to tell you the truth when they have the chance to kill you? Tell me that."  
  
Rion sat up slowly. "If I die, so be it, Belle. I'd rather die questing for the truth than living a lie." He pulled himself off of the bed, standing and shaking his head. "At least this way, I'll be closer to the truth rather than suffocating in this lie the world made for me."  
  
You've got your heart set on this, don't you?" Jezebelle said, wistfully staring at her beloved.  
  
"What have I got to lose?" he responded, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
"Maybe you don't have anything to lose, but what's going to happen if I lose you?" Belle whimpered as she continued to stare blankly at her love.  
  
"Belle, I'm not planning to die. If anything, I'll come back empty-handed, but with some semblance of a truth in my grasp."  
  
"Promise me something, then."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"That you'll come back to me."  
  
"I promise," he answered, kissing her forehead. "I promise." 


	6. Part VI : Home?

Note: Time for a little creative leeway...  
  
-----  
  
It had been a long time since I had been to this place. I really don't even remember being here besides the few times in my memory. Even if I don't directly remember being here, everything felt so natural. This house, was it really mine? I lived here with my parents... whatever happened to them, my parents?  
  
Here I was, standing in front of this beautiful, if a little rustic house on Oak Street. This house was by no means small. It was at least two stories high. How could I forget my own home?  
  
I approached the front door, hesitantly. Was this really a smart thing for me to do? I tried to push it open. No go. "Dammit!" I growled as I slammed my foot against the door as hard as I could. How the hell am I supposed to get into my own house, anyway? It's not like anyone ever gave me a key. I kicked the door again, hard. It still didn't give.  
  
"Shit," I swore as I wandered around the area around the front of my home. This just didn't work for me. Cain was inside MY home, and I felt my anger growing. Why do all these fucked up things always happen to me?!  
  
Opening a fence door, I made my way into the backyard. From my post, I could see a pond, a shed, and a door to the back of the house. Everything looked normal except...  
  
There were tire treads leading into the pond. Just a little confused, I approached the pond. There was a car sunk deep in the middle of the muddy water. "Hm... what the hell happened here," I muttered to myself.  
  
I shifted through my injected psionic powers in my head and realized I didn't have enough D-felon to lift the car out of the water. Dammit...  
  
I pulled out my Beeject gun and a vial of D-felon. Putting it together as quickly as I could, I pushed the barrel to my throat and pulled the trigger.  
  
A cold flame burst through my system, almost causing me to drop the Beeject gun. It... almost made me want to scream my lungs bloody. This freezing surge bursting through my veins choked me, stopped my agonizing scream from escaping my lungs. But... the pain died almost as quickly as it started. Taking deep breaths, I took the Beeject and shoved it in my pocket... and collapsed onto the ground, still conscious... but still breathing hard.  
  
I sat there for a moment, letting my nerves settle. This pain I feel in order to use my psionic powers, I never really feared it. Yet... the pain never got any easier to experience, much to my dismay. In order to gain the tremendous power my psionic channels had to offer, I had to go through just as tremendous physical pain.  
  
After letting myself recover for a moment, I pulled myself to my feet. Now, all I had remaining was to pull this vehicle from the pond.  
  
Facing my palm toward the pond, I mentally switched to D-felon. Focusing my power into my hand, I released it, slowly. I didn't see anything escape my hand, but the effect was obvious: the car lifted from the water slowly, and it dropped itself right next to where I was standing. Water drained itself from the car rapidly, but at least this vehicle was now easily accessible to me.  
  
The driver's side door was partially open and closest to me. Without too much hesitation, I grabbed the handle to the door and pulled as hard as I could. The hinges gave out, and the door fell to my feet with a thud. "Great..." I mumbled, feeling that the door falling was the worst of my problems at the moment...  
  
Until I looked at what that fucking door was hiding. "My fucking GOD," I swore under my breath, staring at a dead body crumpled in the seat before me, which was preserved in its watery grave. I stared, disgusted, as a leech-looking creature fell out of the man's eye and flopped onto his lap. At least, it fell out where his eye should have been...  
  
"Nasty fucking shit," I groaned as I extended my right hand, palm facing outward. Closing my eyes, I asked myself what happened, and let go to the feeling.  
  
The image that came to me was both horrifying and enough to bring tears to my eyes.  
  
This man was my father. This deteriorating corpse was my fucking father. Yet, it was what happened that made my tears turned into a laugh of anger, insanity, call it whatever you will.  
  
Cain had killed my father. He drowned my father as he was driving home from work. Cain used the same drug as I used to take the car out of the water, D-felon, to kill my father. He picked up the car and dropped it into this watery grave. My father couldn't escape. He drowned because of Cain. 


	7. Part VII : The Return of Rainheart

I felt my anger rise, and my pulse began to race. This pain, is this what it is like to have a life snuffed from your life? I fell to my knees, then, my body fighting on whether or not to be angry, cry, or to throw up. The pain was getting to my head, and I didn't want to short again. I couldn't afford to short again.  
  
Still sitting on the ground, I extended my palm again, through the tears, trying to find something less painful, more useful. The image in my mind settled on the keys of the car and my father's ring. Opening my eyes, I saw the ring before me on my father's dead hand. The keys were still in the engine. Great, I'd have to get down and dirty into this, wouldn't I?  
  
Without thinking about the disgusting task I was about to undertake, I grabbed the ring on my deceased father's hand and pulled, hard. It didn't budge, it seemed as if soaking in the water caused my father's flesh to bloat. I tugged harder, determined not to think about what I was doing. With enough effort, the ring came off with a sickening snap. I felt the bile rise from my stomach, I couldn't even bear to believe that this thing... this dead thing... was the same man who implanted Mother Dorothy's virus in my head. The same man who raised me as a youth. Or was he? If what Cain was saying was really and honestly true...  
  
No. I do not want to think about any of that right now. I sat up, pants soaked and mud covered, holding my father's ring in my shaking hands. No, Rion, don't think off track. You've seen enough dead bodies since Michelangelo hospital... this... isn't... any different... right? For all I know, he might not even be my real...  
  
Dammit, have I got a one-track mind. I went over to the pond and dipped the ring in the tepid water, in vain hopes of cleansing the ring of... prior ownership, so to speak. Drying it with my shirt, I put it in my pocket.  
  
"Having fun?" a voice came from behind me. I spun around, recognizing that voice, my pulse pounding in my chest.  
  
"Rainheart," I muttered, not really sure I could believe my eyes. But there he was, smirking before me. "I seriously thought I killed you," I laughed under my breath with my own smirk, letting my palm face upward. I felt my psionic powers shift, and a small blast of red flamed from my fingertips. in reality, though, I was scared out of my wits. I thought I killed this... bastard kid. Why the hell was he still alive? I had the sick thought that maybe Mother Dorothy could continually reproduce her Galerian children. Jesus, no, I didn't want to think about that...  
  
"You've angered Cain and Mother. Mother isn't happy with you," Rainheart answered in the most bland monotone I had ever heard.  
  
I shook my head. "You told me that exact same thing last time, Rainheart... you should be dead, you know that?" I felt my breathing speed up, really and truly hoping that my short little realization would not be true.  
  
"Mother wants you dead, Rion." he responded, totally ignoring anything I ever mentioned. "She doesn't like her children being disobedient... especially when one child goes about killer all her other children." Rainheart's inflection nor did his expression waiver. Pretty damn scary, if you ask me. Not to mention this behavior of Rainheart's was very unusual... he was not like this last time I encountered him.  
  
"I have no relation to that Dorothy, and you have no reason in the fucking world to call me one of her children," I retorted, the red starting to burst from my upraised fingertips in impatience and fury. "I'm not like you and Dorothy's screwed up children."  
  
"Look at you, Rion, Rainheart said with that bland expression, his eyes resting on my hand where tendrils of flame were bursting sporadically. "Does that look normal to you?"  
  
"I'm not like you!" I yelled, eyes narrowing. "I'm not a slave to a computer named Dorothy." I just couldn't understand any of it. All these people... things... were slaves to a damn computer. Just because I have powers like them, does it mean that I'm a Galerian? I have feelings, doesn't... isn't that enough to make me different?  
  
"Maybe Dorothy messed up your program, that's why Cain exists. Ever wonder why Cain has a slight resemblance to you?" asked Rainheart, his eyes still devoid of emotion.  
  
"You know, I really don't give a shit, and I really don't have the time for this," I answered, glaring at Rainheart. The tendrils of flame dancing from my fingers were growing larger. I was just getting so damn tired of everyone telling me I HAD to be a Galerian. So fucking sick of it all.  
  
Rainheart's stoic expression never changed. "You do know where this leads, don't you?"  
  
The flames from my hand immediately quenched, and I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm going to have to kill you again, right?" I shrugged my shoulders with a sigh. "Dammit, this is just another waste of my time."  
  
"It won't be a waste of my time when I kill you," responded Rainheart as he held out his palm in my direction.  
  
This wasn't going to be pretty. 


	8. Part VIII : Unusual Immunity

"Mother Dorothy will be proud of me," Rainheart said with an emotionless smile.  
  
I sighed and shook my head. "So be it." I immediately made sure Red was ready to be used. So hey, this might be a little cheap but... I was just about to hit Rainheart with a blast of Red when something metal and solid hit me in the back. I fell to the ground, swearing underneath my breath.  
  
"What the fuck," I growled, looking at what had hit me. Someone had picked up the car door and hurled it at my back. Rainheart began to laugh.  
  
"What's wrong, Rion, not paying attention?" Rainheart said, humor draining from his voice.  
  
I sat up slowly, shaking my head. "Bastard," I muttered.  
  
"Did you forget I could use D-felon just like you?" asked Rainheart. "See, we're more alike than you like to admit..."  
  
"Shut up," I retorted, "Shut up, shut up, shut UP!" By this time, I could feel my anger trying to peak yet again. I tried my hardest to stand up, it came slowly. "I'm sick of this, I'm completely sick of all this shit."  
  
A smile grazed Rainheart's typically emotionally void expression. "Do you finally understand me, Rion?"  
  
Holding my hand out just a slight distance in front of me, I charged the Red in the back of my mind, trying my hardest to focus and continue the dialogue at the exact same time. "Yes, I've finally come to the conclusion that Dorothy and her children are... are... my..."  
  
"Are your what, Rion?" Rainheart asked, his smile growing.  
  
"That you all are trying to fucking brainwash me!" With those words, I released the Red from my mind, forcing it into my palm.  
  
Instead of a bunch of slow-escaping tendrils of flame, a torching blast of fire burst from my hand, immediately consuming Rainheart. Distracting enough. I ran over to the car and, ignoring the.. dead body... and pulled the keys out of the car. Or tried to. "Dammit!" I swore, trying my hardest to get that cursed key out of the ignition.  
  
"Aww... Rion. Having troubles?"  
  
A sigh escaped my lips as the key was released from the ignition. "Dammit, you just don't die, do you?!" I spun around quickly to face my current nemesis.  
  
This... probably wasn't something I wanted to see. Rainheart looked quite comfortable in the blaze I had set him in. Not to mention he looked quite... angry. Humored by my strife, but angry nonetheless.  
  
I held the key tightly in my hand. I needed some way of bailing out of this. Shit. If fire didn't kill Rainheart, I didn't want to think on what other methods I'd have to try.  
  
"What's wrong, Rion? Don't you understand yet?" Rainheart said with a smirk.  
  
"What? Beyond the fact that you can't kill a bastard twice in the same way?" I muttered, my mind rushing through my thoughts. I really needed to bail out now, I thought.  
  
Holding the key in my hand, I just decided to take a deep breath... and started to run. Well, I ran... only to the front door of my house.  
  
"Yes, Rion, feel free to run now!" Rainheart yelled after me. "You know you're running from the inevitable!" Before I knew it, Rainheart was gone, blaze and all. 


	9. Part IX : Rabbits

I fell to my knees on the patio of the house, dropping the keys and breathing hard, feeling my anger ebb to almost nothingness. "Why the hell does shit like this always have to happen to me?" I asked myself as I shoved my hands in my pockets, searching for a delmetor. I found one, and pushed it into my mouth. I sat for a moment, letting the pill kick itself into my system. I was still shaking from both anger and fear, but by the time the pill fully kicked in, I was starting to feel just fine.  
  
I didn't understand any of it, though. These Galerians were just so damn determined to tell me that I'm not human. Why would they waste their time? Why would they go through so much trouble if they knew I was human. Or rather... am I even human? Their sheer determination to prove to me that I'm not human is beginning to make me wonder...  
  
I just wanted to know why this shit had to keep on happening to me. I wanted to understand, is that just too much to ask? Was it just too much for me to know the truth?  
  
My eyes fell upon the keys in front of me. All this trouble and pain for a stupid ring and a set of keys. I held out my hand and scanned the keys. Go figure, the keys would open the door in front of me. I immediately felt stupid.  
  
I took the keys into my hands and stared at the lock in front of me. You know, if I unlocked this door, I would be bound eternally to the truth I would find inside. If it was even the truth. Was I really sure that I wanted to go this path? It really made me wonder... but...  
  
Eh. No choice there. I think I'd rather die than have this... sword hanging over my head. On the keychain, I took the only key that wasn't in the car ignition and pushed it into the lock and turned it. Click. Rawkin'. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open, sealing my fate.  
  
If I was expecting a fanfare, there was none. Just the creaking of the opened door. I crawled forward, planning to stand up until something had caught my attention. There was a manila folder with random pages scattered out in front of me. I crawled even closer to the mess and grabbed a handful of these papers. I began to read out loud, my curiosity getting the better of me.  
  
"Day eighteen," I began, reading the sheet at the top. "The rabbits have become a truly disturbing sight. Their looks are rather bizarre, but they are becoming more terrifying than ever believed. They are sadistic, cold-blooded killers... I'm glad they listen to orders well." I stopped. How the hell could rabbits be killers? I snickered to myself.  
  
I imagined a bunny with a machine gun. Yet the photograph on the next page scared the living hell out of me.  
  
There was a large 8"x10" photograph of a bloody, rotting mess wrapped up like a mummy. Blood was seeping through its wrappings. It was dressed in a business suit. It looked as if I killed it by shorting, then put it back together with gauze wrap and super glue. Nothing else. THAT was a rabbit? Pretty fucking disgusting.  
  
Now that was something I really didn't want to run into. 


	10. Part X : More Questions, No Answers

Eventually I gained the stomach to be able to turn the page. Hmm... looks like a couple pages are missing. "Day twenty-seven. We might have tried too hard, but I, the great Doctor Lem, can create a life from death. I can bring the dead to life. It is still in the experimental stages, but the processes are going well. I shall post this boy's vital stats later. If I can do this, I will be one step closer to being equal to God."  
  
Turning the page, I continued to read aloud to myself. "Day forty-nine. I am proud of my progress. We have moved Subject 27431 to Michelangelo Hospital. I am wondering if it was smart to choose this boy as my vassal to godhood. I've got two subjects now, but Subject 27989 isn't the one I will begin my tests on. All the memories went through, I believe. On the other hand, certain aspects weren't able to be prevented from transferring over. No matter, this is just a test subject. I will continue my testing until I finally achieve my final goal."  
  
There was one more page. I continued to read. "Day sixty-one. Subject 27431 has dealt well with the testing. He seems really agitated, though, much unlike Subject 27989. I am wondering if I should eliminate Subject 27431, for Subject 27989 is much more capable, much more promising. Subject 27431 has many malfunctions, such as human emotions. Yes, I can create clones of utter duplicated perfection. But that is not what I want. I will be creating my own biological warriors."  
  
I sat there for a moment, absolutely appalled. Why, of all things, did I have to find these? I didn't even bother dwelling on any of it. I think I kind of knew what was going on. I figured that someone had these intentions... someone wanted me to see these. But... why? What did any of this have to do with my family, with me, with anything?  
  
I tossed the photograph back into the manila folder on the floor, and then I folded the notes I had just read aloud and stuffed them in the pocket of my mud-splashed cargos. I stood up and kicked the manila folder to the side. "This isn't getting me anywhere," I grumbled to myself. Instead of getting answers, I was only getting more questions. "Dammit," I swore, I started to feel a headache trying to consume my head, my thoughts.  
  
I ht my fist against the wall. More questions... was all I was going to get was more and more questions? I came here for answers, why was I not getting any?!  
  
Good fucking God. I cam here for answers and yet all I was finding was more questions. These papers in my pocket... I knew that this was set up for me to see. For all I knew, this journal of events I had just read aloud was supposed to be about me. Go figure. Now the real kicker is, is all that information true? If so, was it really about me?  
  
Never mind. Never fucking mind. All this thinking was giving me a pounding headache. Ignoring the information in my pocket, I actually bothered to look around at what the surroundings of my house were.  
  
...it really isn't worth mentioning. Pastel blue walls with minimal decor. This... this was my home? How come I didn't remember anything at all of this little place? Why? WHY? Why is my memory so fucking selective to the point where I can remember certain things but not others?!  
  
I began to walk down the hallway of my house, blandly staring at these blue pastel walls with small flower paintings on the walls. I wandered down this dull hallway until I stumbled onto the only doorway without a door. Odd. It looked like, at one point in time, that there was a door... but it looked as if someone or something had ripped the door off of its hinges. But, why?  
  
Goddamn it. Another fucking question.  
  
I put my hand out and scanned the doorjamb. An image of Rainheart filled my mind. Rainheart ripped the door off its hinges? Once again, I wanted to know why...  
  
Yet when I walked into this room, the kitchen, I immediately knew that I didn't want to know. A feeling of nausea tightened around my stomach... did something really horrible happen here?  
  
Although the scent was faint, I could smell the odor of rotting flesh in the air. It wasn't the scent that was making me sick, though... it was this feeling... 


End file.
